


world's stopped spinning

by liquidsky



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Multi, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21905341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidsky/pseuds/liquidsky
Summary: "I'm in love with Finn," Poe says, the words warm over her cheeks, and Rey stills for a second, pushing him away just enough that she can stare down at his flushed face, with his spit-slick lips caught somewhere between a grin and a frown.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey, Poe Dameron/Rey
Comments: 31
Kudos: 199





	world's stopped spinning

**Author's Note:**

> alright, i've had this quick story stuck in my brain since wednesday and figured i might as well write it.

Rey has a last name.

In the wake of everything that's happened, she's often found herself wondering whether that's something that matters at all. It does to her—maybe it shouldn't, just another imposition, a clunky fact among the hundred of others that she insisted on uncovering only to realize they might have been better off left undisclosed. It does matter, though, if only because she chose it, if only because it's what she picked out for herself, what she's clung to in the aftermath of the whirlwind that has left them all here, bereft but still struggling for their place in a world that's changed beyond recognition. 

A world without Ben, though he's not the only one, and the better part of her consciousness tells her he's not the one whose absence should be felt the most. It is, anyway. Despite the utter chaos and the too-numerous voids taking up every inch of space she's been trying to fill. The world without Ben goes on—she never quite expected it not to, yet it's still surprising. It moves forward in a tentative beginning, a bright opening; Warless, and building itself up slowly, a burgeoning kind of happiness sprawling ceaselessly across the galaxy, tainted but not ruined by grief. 

Time speeds forward, too, changing the tides until she can't help but feel the spring of contentment making a home in the space under her ribcage when she stares out into open space and turns around to find Finn asleep in the chair next to hers. Rey watches him sleep, with his face tipped back, mouth slack, snoring softly. His nose twitches, brows furrowing for the blink of an eye before his features smooth out again. 

Rey presses an assortment of buttons, pats BB-8 on the side and stands up to make her way to the back of the ship, where Poe's lounging on the floor with his head pillowed on his jacket and an arm thrown over his eyes. She settles down next to him, poking his leg with a finger, "Are you asleep?"

"You would've woken me up if I had been," Poe points out, and she offers him a grin because she knew that, "Want me to steer?"

"Wanted a story," Rey's saying, leaning closer to him, into his space a little, enough that he huffs out a breath and pushes himself up on his elbows. "Will you?" 

He does, and she knows better by now than to think it's because he can't say no to her. He can—and he will, more often than not, just not about this. Maybe it's because he needs it, too, or maybe she's wrong and it is about her after all. She sprawls down next to him, sighing when he snakes an arm over her waist and pulls her into his chest. 

She breathes in, then out, and Poe's voice sounds firm as he launches into a story she hasn't heard before. He repeats them, sometimes, adding layers of detail he hadn't previously, and she knows it's the way of memories—the weight of perspective casting shadows onto things he'd thought he knew. She appreciates that, too, that he's willing to share the changes, every seemingly innocuous reviewing that somehow tilts the world on its axis for her. She wanted to know Ben, at first, more than however much she did by the time he faded out of existence, but she's grown to realize this is a way of knowing Poe as well, and it counts for something. They're family, in the ways that matter. In some of the ways that don't, too, in the few times Poe's breached the distance between them and inhaled her shallow breaths until she could barely breathe at all. Poe's a good kisser—a good _everything,_ and she likes knowing him just as much as she feels that knowing Ben means knowing herself. A lot, then. An incredible, overwhelming amount. She listens, eyes closed, heart starting to beat faster as the now-familiar taste of equal parts envy and wonder stick to the back of her throat.

Having no childhood will do that to you; she's jealous of the people they had the chance of being, together and individually, and it hurts, a little, the thought of all the things she could've had and didn't, and wouldn't. Poe kisses the back of her neck, pushes forward against her when she tenses, so she melts back into him with a grim sigh she doesn't need to explain until he's asking, "Want me to stop?" and she tells him to keep going. 

He does, rubbing a palm up and down her sides, fingers catching on the pale fabric of her clothes, and she's picturing it all too clearly—she only saw it the once, but it rings clear all the same. Ben's smile; she wonders whether it lit up his eyes, imagines that it did, so much so that it cast a warmth glow onto everything in his sight. 

The thoughts of him hadn't lessened as the time tittered by, although they did evolve into a duller kind of pain, an ever present hum under her skin that didn't sadden her as much as it just—changed her. Irreversibly, maybe, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it. Still, she turns around in Poe's embrace, drags her hand up to press the pads of her fingers to his jaw, "I think–" and he's kissing her before she has to ask him to stop.

Feeling known is a novelty she hasn't yet gotten used to; it simmers under the surface, pleasant and warm, so she tangles their legs together, moves around so she's pushing him flat on the floor and straddling his hips. He's muttering, "Rey," in a tone that makes her grind down against him, kiss her way up his jaw to fit her tongue inside his mouth and swallow the sound of her name off his lips. Poe's got nice hands, calloused and firm – like hers, when she thinks about it – and he curves them around the back of her thighs and squeezes until she groans into the slick heat of their kiss. 

"Tell me–" she starts, dragging her lips down the side of his face, breathing hard already. He pulls her down against him, grinds up just in time, and she's fighting a shiver as she's saying, "Tell me something else. About–about _you_ , this time. Just–"

"I'm in love with Finn," Poe says, the words warm over her cheeks, and she stills for a second, pushing him away just enough that she can stare down at his flushed face, with his spit-slick lips caught somewhere between a grin and a frown. He cradles her hips in his hands, moves them down until they're inching too close to the inside of her thighs; he's breathing loudly, "But you knew that already."

"Does he _know_ ," she gasps when he pushes the heel of his hand against her. Overheated, and off-balance, now that she knows this, except maybe for how she already knew, sort of, in a way that was more or less inevitable because Poe wears his heart on his sleeve, and she's always been too good an observer. She shifts, huffing out a feverish breath, biting her lips when he presses up and she has to shut her eyes. He keeps touching her, and she can feel the weight of his gaze as it searches her face. "I'm–do _you,_ uh." 

"He's in love with you," he tells her, drags his hand away from where she's grinding down against it; Poe trails a firm path up her body, touches the side of her breasts, up to her neck until he's got good enough a grip to pull her to him and bite down on her lower lip. His other hand finds the back of her knee, nudging her up his body in a way that's just—she's aware, again, of how much he's gathered from her while she was busy tracing the map that led somewhere close to the center of his story. She ought to have known, really, that general Poe Dameron wouldn't have left her with the upper hand too long, so when he tries to kiss her again she cocks her head to the side and says, "is that why?" 

"No," Poe tells her, and he sounds truthful in a way that's too uncomplicated, as though anything could ever be as simple. He ducks, just a little, sucks the skin of her neck until she's grunting quietly and shifting to rub herself on him, "Is that why _you're_ doing it? Because you're in love with Ben?" 

She's sweating through her clothes, and when she blinks her eyes open she sees that he is, too. She knows Poe—looking at him, at the slack of his mouth when she circles her hips, at the beads of sweat catching on his cupid's bow, the sure acceptance in his eyes. Rey's pressing down to plaster their bodies together, her heart beating against his chest. She licks at the hollow of his throat, tastes salt, says, "No, that's not why." 

Rey likes the sound of his laughter the most—he snorts, wraps his arms around her. He breathes her in, audibly, so she does, too, closing her eyes, sighing softly. "It's about you." Says Rey. Poe goes quiet, so she adds, "Maybe about me, too." 

"More things should be about you," Poe mutters, and she finds it comforting, in a strange way. She doesn't move, because he's warm and he's soft and she's realized in a still-blurry sort of way that she might not need to feel envy at all. Not of a past she didn't get to have, not when she has this. Finn's still asleep, and when it's silent she can hear that his snoring's grown louder, and Poe's heart is steady, reliable as it thuds away against hers. It's all _wonder._ She has a family name, and more wondrous yet: she has a family; in all the ways that matter, she's found more than what she looked for. Rey of nowhere, the scavenger, Rey Skywalker, Rey the Jedi, one day whoever else she finds herself to be. She breathes him in, the tang of his skin lingering on her tongue, and when she looks up it's to find him peering back at her, smiling, "Alright?" 

Rey pushes away from him, flops down on the cold floor with her body half-turned to his side. He runs his palm down her arm, and she blinks, slowly, "You should tell Finn." 

It's true–she should tell Finn, too, about this. She watches the space between them and catches Poe doing the same, in the sudden crease in his eyebrows an obvious calculation; the exact size of their missing puzzle piece, whose snores are now almost loud enough to rattle the walls of the ship. She snorts, quietly, and Poe stumbles up, adjusting his pants, adjusting his hair, shaking his arms a little before shoving his hands into his pocket.

"You're waking him up?" 

Poe shrugs, but he is smiling. One step ahead of her, or maybe just in sync, "No time like the present."

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd and written in more or less of a rush, just because i genuinely couldn't stop thinking about it.
> 
> also, like, i'm about the only person alive who's genuinely enjoyed _the rise of skywalker_ (just as much as i loved _the last jedi_ , even), i know. please don't hold that against me? *eric szyszka voice* it's okay to like a movie!
> 
> oh! another thing! two of my friends got super excited about picturing ben and poe sort of growing up together (right after watching TFA, a little before the rest of the tie-ins came out, i think) and i have no idea whether that got jossed or not, but i'm running with it. poetic license, what's canon, etc. thanks!


End file.
